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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925969">That</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefi/pseuds/stefi'>stefi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:47:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefi/pseuds/stefi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Post episode 118 of campaign 2. </p>
<p>Jester is in an inquisitive mood. Fjord indulges, eventually.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fjord/Jester Lavorre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>129</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>That</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“How long?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord looks up from his mug of hot chocolate. Most of the Nein have retired for the evening and other than the occasional passing cat, they’re alone in the salon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stalling for time, the half-Orc feigns ignorance. “How long, what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lilac eyes narrow in his direction. “You know,” Jester starts. She closes the minute distance between them on the couch, allowing their knees to touch while her tail winds its way around his calf. She feels Fjord’s arm rest itself around her shoulder. “How long was the while that you wanted to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was only last night and the event is still fresh in their minds.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Fjord echoes, leaning back against the seat. “I’m sorry, you’ll need to be more,” he pauses while pulling her to fit against him, the two of them half-way lying together. “More explicit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester hides her face in his chest, cheeks warming. It’s all still so new that she feels jittery every time they touch. “You know what I mean,” she says quietly, coyly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Teasing Jester has always been one of Fjord’s favored past times, and when she peeks up at him, he almost folds. “I’m not the most observant fellow, you’ll need to be specific. There are plenty of things I’ve wanted to do for a while. Some I’ve even accomplished lately.” He strokes a hand through his beard. “This took some time, you know? How many bearded half-orcs have you met?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fjooooooord.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knows that tone. It’s not a warning. It’s a plea, one he knows he’ll never be able to deny. “You have to promise you won’t judge me.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I swear on Sprinkle,” she vows. From the floor, nestled in the hood of Jester’s coat, Sprinkle snorts. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was a culmination of incidents, if I’m being honest,” Fjord confesses. “The starting point… and please don’t think less of me for saying this but-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Jester cuddles closer, nosing at his jaw.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It was… when we were on the ship. On the sea. We-we were about to be boarded and everyone was… altering their appearances. Trying to look more menacing.” Fjord flushes and clears his throat. “You, ah, you kept your appearance the same, but your clothes just…” Fjord smooths a nervous palm from Jester’s shoulder, down her arm, then rests it in the flare of her hips. “Got so</span>
  <em>
    <span> tight</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester giggles and the little jewels ad baubles adorning her more mature horns jingle. “You got all bothered by a tight outfit?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord pouts, tusks protruding further than they already do. “A tight outfit on </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he clarifies. “And if we’re going to be fair here, you can’t even say the word ‘kiss’ to me. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the woman who consumes smut books the way you consume pastries.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester bites her bottom lip, recalling how Fjord’s tusks poked her there just last night. “It’s different when it’s real,” she admits shyly. “When it’s Fjord in real life and not Oskar in a book.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope I met your expectations,” he says, bemused. When she shifts to get more comfortable, he lifts his arm, allowing her space. He lowers his arm again when she’s done wiggling closer. The kiss that lands on his cheek is a surprise.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing in any book ever will compare to you, Fjord,” she assures him. “You’re actually pretty romantic, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He huffs a short laugh out at his own expense. “Don’t go broadcasting it. You’ll ruin my tortured tough guy image,” he quips. “Not that I don’t want the others to know about what happened. I just-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, me too,” she agrees. “I don’t want to hide us,” she says ‘us’ like she can’t believe they’re an ‘us’. “It’s just nice to have something just for you and me for now. It’s like we’re in a private club and we’re the only members or something.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After always putting others first, it warms Fjord to see Jester put herself ahead for once. “You know I can’t deny you anything,” he blurts, almost immediately regretting it. The smile she gives him makes the chance for embarrassment worth it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re quiet for a moment before Jester swallows. “You know, you can do it again. Like, whenever you want.” She follows it up with a brief, nervous laugh.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord arches an eyebrow. “Do what?” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You know…” she mutters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I need more to go on than-“</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Kiss me, Fjord,” she says, her eyes squeezing shut. “You can do that… anytime you want to. I like it. A lot.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this a demand?” He nudges her nose with his, angling his face just so. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jester half-laughs, her breath tickling his lips. “Consider it a request? From me?” Her fingers curl into the place just behind his ears as her pitch rises.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Fjord acquiesces. “Okay,” he breathes just before he indulges her, their smiles brushing together.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s slower this time. Longer, but just as soft. When their lips part, Jester whispers “Okay” into Fjord’s slightly open mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They fall asleep on that same couch somewhere between soft confessions and softer kisses. When they wake up, they head to the dining room together, Jester’s pinkie finger linked with Fjord’s.</span>
</p>
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